Finding Faith
by darkphoenix4
Summary: Harry is dealt another tough blow by a couple of conspirators during an already dismal summer. Sirius wants to help, but can he help Harry learn to tust him?
1. Unhealthy Alliances

Prologue

Author's Note: First of all I own nothing.  Wish I did oh well. Second reviews and comments are welcome, but as this is the first HP fic I've done be nice.  I'll try to post again soon.

Prologue:

    Cornelius Fudge was not having a good day, in fact he hadn't had a good day in quite a while, probably not since Sirius Black had escaped over two years ago, and certainly not since the beginning of the Tri Wizard Tournament.  But he refused to let this madness continue.  He had been a good minister of magic, he had done his job well and he had enjoyed a fair regard from the wizarding pubic, he had no intentions of letting his term end on a sour note.  Which was exactly what would happen if he didn't take action and quickly.  Contrary to popular belief Fudge was no fool, he knew that he had a limited amount of time before Dumbledore would try to go around him in the ministry and raise support for this ridiculous rumor about the rise of You- Know- who.  

Well he would put an end to that nonsense.  There was absolutely no proof that You Know Who had indeed returned.  And Fudge was certainly not going to risk his reputation and career on the word of a boy who was most definitely unstable.  Harry Potter may be a hero to most wizards but to Fudge he was nothing more than a nuisance, and one that needed to be dealt with quickly and skillfully.  But what to do?

Fudge continued to contemplate ways of silencing Dumbledore as well as Harry Potter as he walked up to his office.  By the time he reached his secretary's desk he was in such a fowl mood he completely ignored her squeaky voice chattering about owls and messages he had missed.  Instead of stopping to collect the messages he brushed right passed his flustered secretary and into his office completely failing to see the visitor he had in the reception area.  A visitor that could unknowingly help him take care of the Potter problem, permanently.

Fudge's secretary knocked on his door and opened her mouth to say something but before she could utter a sound someone streaked past her and began firing questions in the ministers direction.

"Minister how do you feel about the end to the Tri wizard Tournament?"

    "Do you have any comment on the student who died in the competition?"

    "Who is responsible?"

    "Rita I haven't the time or the patience for you right now, leave."

    Rita scowled deeply.  She had not been having a good week either.  Stories were so much harder to write when she couldn't embellish a few things here or there.  And she was sick of being thrown out of every office in the ministry.  "You know minister I would have thought it obvious that I hold a powerful place with the people.  Perhaps one of these days soon we will have a ministry who will learn to utilize the press rather than shunt it away, I admit I can be a bit hot tempered in my writing, but I could also make a very powerful ally perhaps once your miserable term is over you will realize the opportunity you lost."  With some of Rita's aggression spent she turned and stormed towards the door.

Fudge sat there, barely registering what Rita had said, thoroughly engrossed in his own personal disaster.  And then the real power of Rita's words hit him.  He looked up just in time to see Rita walk through the door, his mind floundered for a moment, it would be risky, but it could work.  With a feral grin and his mind made up he called out, "Rita dear, come back in and have a seat, I would like to make you a proposal, one I think you may find very, very interesting.

Rita paused by the door and looked over her shoulder, a grin to match the Ministers' slowly spread across her face and she reentered the room letting the door click shut behind her.

"What did you have in mind?"


	2. Chapter Two: Dreams

     "No!"

Harry Potter awoke with a start, springing up so quickly that he lost his balance and landed in a tangled heap on the floor of his room.  He winced a bit as he tried to disentangle himself from his sweat soaked sheets.  He had dreamed again.  He had been dreaming every night since his return to Privet Dr. and each night they became a little more violent, a little more vivid and a little more perverse.  The first few nights he had dreamed only of Cedric and that night in the graveyard, Cedric dying, Cedric blaming him for his death, Voldemort returning, the list continued on and on.  But the last few nights Harry's dreams had taken a nasty turn.  He'd begun to dream of all the other people who's lives he had ruined, his parents, Sirius, the danger his friends were in by associating with him.  The dreams were getting to the point that Harry feared sleep, and even when exhaustion won out Harry rarely slept more than an hour or two during the night.  Harry's summer was very rapidly shaping up to be the worst summer that he had ever experienced.  Between the lack of sleep and the endless list of chores Harry was beginning to look rather sickly.  He wasn't eating well, partly because his relatives didn't feed him well, and partly because he just wasn't hungry.  To add to his diminishing appearance he constantly sported heavy bags under his eyes and his eyes were always blood shot.  Basically he looked a lot like Sirius had when he'd first left Azkaban.  

Harry sighed and walked over to the window, he missed Sirius.  He had wanted him to remain at Hogwarts the night of the tournament, yet had understood why he couldn't.  The feelings that had gone through Harry that night had been so strange and so many he hadn't really understood half of them until he had left Hogwarts and had time to think.  In hindsight he was amazed that he had wanted Sirius to stay so badly.  Harry had never depended on an adult for any kind of support; he'd always managed to get along on his own just fine.  It baffled him to think that he had grown to trust and depend on a man he barely knew to the extent that he had.  Sirius was barely more than a stranger to him, he knew very little about him, and Harry assumed that Sirius didn't know very much about Harry save for what he remembered of Harry before he was imprisoned and what little he had witnessed during his third year.  So how was it that Harry had grown so attached to a man he barely knew?  Perhaps it was the fact the he was his parents best friend, or maybe it was the fact that he was the first adult to show Harry any type of parental guidance.  Yet despite the fact that he trusted Sirius he found it overwhelmingly difficult to write to him.  Sirius was constantly owling Harry, and Harry was having trouble answering to Sirius truthfully, after all Sirius' primary question was always centered on Harry's well-being, and Harry just wasn't sure what to say to that, the truth would hardly work.

Harry pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, he sighed as he thought of a truthful answer to Sirius' question of "How are you?"  If he could sum it up in a word it would be a tie between awful and miserable.  From the moment he had stepped off the train and joined the Dursleys he had known that his treatment this summer would be worse than usual.  Uncle Vernon already looked furious, and they hadn't even left the train station yet.  It turned out that he was still livid over the toffee incident at the end of last summer, and to top it off he had learned of the increasing danger to Harry and the importance of Harry remaining in their care until Harry heard otherwise.  It would seem that Albus Dumbledore had felt the need to inform Harry's relatives of the growing danger if just to be safe.  Harry would never forget the look of utter disgust and rage Vernon had when he cornered Harry in his room for a little "discussion."

"Now you listen here boy, and listen good.  Your aunt and I have taken all we are going to take from you.  From now on you will work during the day, and remain in your room at any time that we do not need you.  After all of the damage you have caused to this family, you will cause no more.  Put one toe out of line, just one and I swear to you'll wish that you had died at that ruddy school of yours!  Are we clear?" 

Harry was barely able to manage a "Yes Uncle Vernon."  Harry had seen his Uncle angry before, but this was very different.  Usually his Uncle was quick to temper and had a tendency to scream and yell, but this was different, this was dangerous.  He had seen nothing but calm fury in his Uncle, some kind of collected decision against Harry that frightened Harry far more than any screaming his Uncle had done before.  This was no empty threat, this had power and resolution behind it, and it didn't take long to show itself.  Harry's list of chores grew daily, as did the consequences of failing to complete them.  He had already gone without several meals, and once when Harry hadn't been paying close attention to the bacon on the stove the grease popped and barely burned Dudley's arm, Uncle Vernon hit the roof and roughly grabbed Harry's arm and threw him into his room for the rest of the day.  He'd had a large purple bruise on is arm from that incident.  Now Harry tried to avoid the family as much as possible, and was worried that his Uncle may snap and do something really drastic at any given moment.  He didn't want to cause any more trouble for his relatives, or himself though a part of him felt he perhaps deserved it.  He was always causing problems.  Before Harry could continue his line of thought something in the darkness caught his eye.  Harry warily watched the approaching shape, and was happy to see it was Hedwig, as she had been gone for nearly a week now.  

Harry opened his window and allowed the snowy owl to swoop in and land neatly on his bed.  Harry walked over to Hedwig a quickly untied a note and a small package from her leg, allowing her to get some water.  Opening the letter Harry realized it was in Hermione's neat handwriting.  

_Dear Harry,_

_     How are you doing?  I miss you and Ron already, and can't wait to get back to school.  Everything is the same at home, it gets a bit more awkward every time that I have to come back to a completely muggle setting.  I hope you don't mind but I sent you your birthday present a bit early, I may be traveling abroad and I wanted to make sure you received it. When I saw it I immediately thought you would enjoy it, especially during the summer.  Go ahead and open it now, and write often._

_Love from,   _

_Hermione_

     Harry picked up the small box that was still resting on his bed.  Harry carefully unwrapped it and pulled out a round object about the size of a snitch and had a misty white color to it.  Upon closer inspection he could tell that there was actually a swirling white mist inside.  Thoroughly confused Harry looked in the box to see if there were any instructions, instead he found another slip of paper with Hermione's neat handwriting.

Harry this is a memory ball; it is similar to a rememberall but not quite the same.  It is sort of like a muggle video camera in the sense that it stores memories, only better.  What you do is you hold it in your hand and concentrate on a memory you would like to store.  The ball then magically duplicates the memory and stores it.  Then if you ever want to remember exactly the way something happened like, oh I don't know your first time flying you just hold the ball and think of flying and the memory will resurface in your mind, and best of all you can experience the same emotions you felt then.  Isn't that neat?!  Oh and by the way when the mist is white it means there are no memories, but as you store memories the mist will change color to reflect the type of memories you store.  The more good memories the lighter the shades of blue or green the ball will become, the more unhappy memories you store the darker the ball will become.  By the way the ball holds so many memories you probably won't run out of room any time soon, but if you do you can replace one memory with another.  I hope you enjoy it.

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

     "Wow Hermione!"  Harry quickly read through the rest of the instructions to the ball.  Harry quietly hid the letter and the box underneath the loose floorboards of his bed, and then reclined onto his pillows to give the ball a try.  Unsure what to think of first he decided to go with Hermione's suggestion of flying.  Harry closed his eyes and tried to find the memory of his first time on a broom, it only took him a few seconds find the memory and from that moment the memory seemed to blossom on its own.  Harry could feel the mid morning sun and light breeze on his face and could clearly see the image of Malfoy before him holding Neville's rememberall.  Harry felt the wind rush past him as he faced off against Malfoy for the first time and was thrilled to feel the adrenaline pumping through him.  Completely exhilarated Harry spent the next couple of hours sorting through memories of his first few years at Hogwarts, carefully avoiding the bad ones.  By the time he needed to get dressed and downstairs to make breakfast he had quite the collection of memories ranging from flying to finding out he had a godfather.  He had also learned how to draw up his happiest memory just by looking for the strongest pull when he found the ball, and he learned that he could share these memories with anyone else, allowing them to see things from Harry's point of view.  It had to be one of the best gifts he had ever received.  He put the ball under his floorboards again before he went down to cook breakfast for the family.  Harry felt considerably better after having stayed up and occupied with something fun for a change, perhaps he would even attempt to write that letter to Sirius he kept putting off after his chores were finished.

     Rita Skeeter was leaving her office a very happy woman, she'd just finished the story of the year, and if Fudge did as he promised then Rita would be protected from that Granger brat, and would have the scoop of the century.  She couldn't quite believe her luck.  She had not been looking forward to having to write stories based completely on the truth and merit, that just wasn't how reporting was done.  Was it her fault if someone's secrets were exposed.  Besides according to Fudge this boy was dangerous, possibly Dark Lord potential, and the people had a right to know, so as far as Rita was concerned she was just doing her job, and backlash wasn't her problem, her job was done.  The ball was in Fudge's court now, and if he bungled it then it would mean Rita had the potential to grab two of the biggest stories in a long time.  Yes times were good for this reporter.


	3. Chapter Three: Formulating Disaster

Disclaimer:  Sorry I think I forgot a disclaimer on the last chapter, but here it is.  I don't own anything and I am making no money.  Darn.

A/N:  Also note that I realize this is starting slowly but I want to establish where certain characters are and what they are doing. I hope to take this story through several different characters and their views of what is occurring, so setting the tone may take some lengthy paragraphs, try to bear with it.  I promise to get things rolling in the next chapter or two.  Also. Sorry I haven't posted lately but I have been without internet, as such I have a hard time finding time to post let alone thank you or respond to your reviews.  I assure you I will do both in the next chapter, so please review and all questions and comments are welcome. Thanks.  Darkphoenix.

            Sirius Black rolled over on his side trying to escape the cruel sunshine streaming through the window, which was ruining his one attempt at a lie in that he had had in ages.  He smothered his face into his pillows. He was finally beginning to get used to sleeping in a bed, one with the comforts of sheets and pillows.  He had spent so long on the floor of his filthy cell in Azkaban and then a while after that living on the run and sleeping in caves.  It was a welcome relief to be staying with Remus Lupin and enjoying the finer things in life such as sleeping in human form, getting regular meals and having a shower at his disposal.

Sirius again shifted trying to find a comfortable position, finally just giving in and swinging his legs over the side of the bed preparing to face his day.  He glanced at his reflection staring back at him from the floor mirror on the other side of the room.  He hardly recognized himself.  His reflection was finally beginning to look like the young man he had left behind so many years ago.  Living with Mooney had turned out to be really good for Sirius.  His skin was returning to a more natural shade, and his hair was finally neat and well groomed.  The only thing that remained of the fugitive and prisoner he had been were his eyes.  His eyes conveyed all too clearly that this man had lived through dark times and had a troubled mind, although lately his feelings of guilt had morphed into feelings of worry over what the future had in store, particularly where Harry was concerned.

It hadn't been long since the end of the Tri Wizard tournament when he'd had to leave his Godson yet again.  Sirius had hated doing it, and the look on Harry's face despite his understanding tone had been heartbreaking, clearly Harry had really needed him, and yet again he hadn't been there.  He knew that Harry must be suffering, he was the type to take things upon him and suffer for it, and it was killing Sirius that he couldn't go to Harry straight away.  Of course he had written to Harry as often as possible, and Harry had always responded straight away, always assuring his godfather that he was fine.  Sirius didn't buy it for a moment.  Harry's letters gave away so little, and for him they were the only indicator he needed to know that his Godson was struggling at best.  First of all Harry only wrote in response to him, never did he initiate contact anymore.  And although his letters were cordial, they always lacked the playful tone that was uniquely Harry's.  Sirius sighed as he finished getting dressed, his Godson was suffering, and his hands were tied.

"Sirius, you hungry?"  Sirius had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn't heard Remus knock and then stick his head in the door.

"Yeah, I am coming."

"Why are you so melancholy?"

"No reason."

Remus followed his friend down the stairs, smiling knowingly at his back.  

"Harry on your mind again huh?"

Sirius glared towards Remus as he began to pull the dishes from the shelves and place settings on the small kitchen table.  

"Why do you insist on asking questions to which you already know the answer to?"

"It's a gift.  He'll be alright you know."

"I hope so, I am just worried he's blaming himself, and he hasn't got anyone to either distract him or reassure him, I don't think those muggles he lives with are very understanding of magic or of Harry's situation."

Remus inwardly groaned.  If Sirius knew how the muggles treated Harry he would hit the roof and do something stupid, it was probably best that Sirius think whatever he wanted to until Harry corrected him.  

"What makes you think that Harry is blaming himself, he did nothing wrong, from what you told me he did some very remarkable not to mention selfless things at the end of the year, so where is this coming from?"

"Ron Weasley wrote to tell me that his mother and father had been completely informed on my situation, and he filled me in on what happened after I had left Hogwarts.  He wasn't very clear, I don't think Harry knew he was writing to me, but the tone of the letter suggested that while Harry looked like he was handling things well, Ron and Hermione could tell he felt guilty and were worried how he would handle going back to the Dursleys, something along the lines of them not being supportive." 

"You could be right, but maybe Harry isn't really berating himself over last year."

Sirius shook his head.  "Moony, you were his professor for an entire year, you've been able to spend more time with him than I have for crying out loud.  Can you honestly say that you think that Harry could so easily let go of the events of the past year?  He can only deal with so much on his own."

Remus sighed, he knew just as well as Sirius did that Harry was struggling, but somebody had to play devils advocate for Sirius otherwise he was liable to go do something very stupid.  

"Padfoot, lets give him a little credit and a little time, we have some things that we absolutely have to take care of right now for Dumbledore, but perhaps after we are finished I could discuss the possibility of Harry going over to the Weasley's sooner than expected and perhaps staying here for a day or two, the best you can do for now is to continue to write to him, he'll be alright."

"Alright.  I just…"

"What?"

"It's just that I want to be there, I hardly know him, I don't know how he grew up, or what his first three years at Hogwarts were like, I just don't want to miss anymore. I already feel so attached to him Remus, he believed me, and protected me, it feels so wrong that I can't do the same for him.  And now I am wondering what the Dursleys are like, I don't know anything about them, Lily never spoke of her sister, and I have a funny feeling about them by the way Ron spoke of them, what do you know?" Sirius eyed Remus suspiciously.

Remus didn't think it wise to tell Sirius all about Harry's relatives so he sidestepped. "Listen, you'll be here from now on, and I know Harry well enough to know that that means a great deal to him, he's never expected anything from you Sirius, trust me he understands why you can't always be there. As for the Dursleys I don't know too much either, but Dumbledore seems to think he is safe there, and his safety is first and foremost right?"

"Alright, alright no more lectures, lets just eat breakfast."  Sirius said as he held his hands up as a symbol of defeat. He didn't mean to worry so much about Harry.  He knew better than most that he could look out for himself.

Just as Sirius and Remus were finishing up with breakfast a small gray owl flew through the open window and deposited the latest edition of the Daily Prophet in front of Remus.  Sirius stood and began to put the dishes in the sink.  

"So are they still printing those fascinating stories about me?"

Remus snickered under his breath as he unfolded the paper, and then muttered a barely audible curse as he read the headlines.

"What, don't tell me that that fool Fudge has finally acknowledged Voldemort's return?  Or better yet what is he trying to pin me for this week?"  When Remus didn't laugh, or even make a sound Sirius turned to face him.

"Remus, what's wrong?"  Sirius knew his friend well enough to know that something was really wrong, but when Remus didn't respond Sirius knew he wouldn't like whatever that rag had printed this time.  He cautiously walked to Remus' shoulder to peer at the paper for himself, and what he read made his blood boil.

Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived or the Boy Who Killed?

From your special correspondent Rita Skeeter comes the latest in a string of fascinating stories that Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has attempted to keep hidden from the wizarding community.  Several startling discoveries have been made this year about our once heroic boy who lived.  He was once seemingly a young man who lost his parents at a young age, desperately yearning for a loving parental figure to step in and guide him.  Unfortunately, that was not to be.  He is reported to be living with his Aunt and Uncle in a muggle community, (this of course is due to the fact that his only legal wizard guardian is none other than the insane mass murder Sirius Black.)  

It wasn't until this year however that several facts were discovered that cast a much more unfavorable light upon the boy who lived.  He was discovered to be, by this very journalist, a parselmouth.  The ability to talk to snakes is a trait that has been long associated with dark wizards, but if that isn't enough his mental stability has come under question as well.  Several times during the last year Potter collapsed claiming to have passed out from the pain in his head, his scar to be exact.  

It wasn't until the end of his last semester that Mr. Potter actually became dangerous, although he was widely accused of opening the chamber of secrets and letting loose a Basilisk on his classmates, a task that could only be performed by a parselmouth.  Though no one died during that incident, times have changed.  Mr. Potter entered himself as the fourth contestant in the famed tri wizard tournament this year and as we all know the tournament ended with disastrous results.  While Potter was one of the favored contestants to win the tournament many feel that perhaps he used devious means to win the title in the end.  A Mr. Cedric Diggory a loyal Hufflepuff seventh year was tied with Potter entering the last task, and somehow the Hogwarts champion was killed.  

It is the opinion of many that Mr. Potter may have taken his need to feel accepted and recognized too far in competing in the competition, and is perhaps responsible for the death of a fellow classmate.  Whether or not Mr. Potter was implicated in the untimely and gruesome death of his classmate remains to be seen.  But this reporter would like to know why so many secrets were kept from public knowledge.  Perhaps Dumbledore thinks the famed boy who lived is beyond the level of our law, but I for one would sleep better knowing that Mr. Potter was thoroughly investigated and properly punished for any crimes committed.  With the fragile peace we have worked to build over the last several years it would be a shame to allow another dark lord to rise, and after all it must take some amount of power, perhaps dark power to block the infamous killing curse.  Shouldn't our esteemed Minister work to counter any threat even if it means prosecuting the boy who lived.  Until next time, Rita Skeeter.

"I do not believe the gall of that woman.  How can the wizarding community allow her to continue to print this trash?"  Sirius had exploded into a full-blown uproar upon finishing the article.  

"How could anyone believe that Harry would be capable of killing, and to win a simple competition no less?"

"Sirius, you need to calm down, the real question here is what that woman is up to.  You know as well as I do that she doesn't write without a purpose, and she never has shown support for the ministry before."

"You don't think she could be trying to get Harry brought up on charges do you?"

"It is very unlikely, but I think that it is possible that someone put her up to it, probably to disrupt Harry's credibility."

"But who would have anything to gain by throwing Harry to the wolves… unless, you don't think Fudge would use this to cover up Voldemort's return do you?  Dumbledore did warn us that Fudge would be desperate enough to try something stupid."

"I don't know, but I think we should contact Dumbledore, just in case."

"Alright, but what about Harry?"

"What about him, he won't know that any of this is going on, and its best that we don't tell him, he doesn't need any more stress right now, and it could be that Rita is just being her normal insufferable self."

"And if she's not?"

"Then we will deal with it, the ministry won't be able to get to Harry without Albus knowing, and I don't think that he would allow them to take Harry in for questioning without an adult present.  So for now lets just owl Dumbledore."

Cornelius Fudge placed the paper down on his office desk, a wicked smile spreading across his face. Rita Skeeter had done well.  The woman really had absolutely no morals when it came to a good story, she'd print lies against her own family if it meant a news worthy article.  Such ambitious allies were difficult to find, but not necessarily difficult to control and manipulate when the proper motivators were used.  Fudge inwardly smiled again.  At this rate the Potter problem would be solved rather quickly.  Rita had managed to discredit him enough during his last school term and the Tri Wizard tournament that there was already a nice seedling of doubt and mistrust nestled in the minds of the wizarding public, Fudge merely had to cultivate it.  The fact of the matter was, he'd already begun. 

Fudge had learned early in his term how to appease the general public, a task not easily done after the terror and mistrust you-know-who's reign had caused, but if he intended to maintain his position, and be well accepted it had been an absolute necessity to learn how to quell rumors as well as how to start them.  In the years he'd worked as minister he'd learned a few very useful universal truths.  First of all, most people, especially the educated were difficult to control if you didn't understand implicitly what made their world turn.  Rita for example was driven by power; power of the press had given her a rather high opinion of herself, which led to truth number two.  People with high opinions of themselves or low opinions of others in respect to themselves were also easy to get around.  The arrogant need only be fawned over and more often than not their inflated egos prevented them from seeing the true manipulations.  Another group of people who were easily misdirected and often manipulated were the naïve. Fudge's new personal assistant was a perfect example if not an odd combination of naïveté and ambition.  While Percy Weasley was intelligent, and certainly loyal to his family he desperately longed to be more successful than the rest of his family.  Fudge even sensed a certain disdain for his father's lack of ambition in the ministry.  Couple Percy's overwhelming drive to succeed with his blind faith in the ministry and the kid could be very easily misdirected.  He still maintained the naïve belief that the ministry was everything good and ordered about the wizarding world, an idea Fudge was more than happy to help maintain, he could after all be an excellent source of information. 

And finally while an individual can be difficult to control or convince, their power is relatively meaningless in comparison to what an angry mob can do, a mob of upset people could be devastating to a reputation, which was why Fudge was so careful about the rumors that filtered from the ministry to the public, while a mob could be a formidable opponent, it could be an even more formidable ally, an ally Fudge intended to utilize to the fullest.  In fact he expected to begin receiving ample amounts of letters justifying action against Potter by tomorrow.

Fudge had been very busy while Rita had been writing.  He'd been to pay his respect to the Diggory's.  He well knew that if he had enough general support to go after Potter he could proceed, yet it would be better if the demand for justice came from a justified source.  Amos and his wife had been hit hard by the loss of their son, and Fudge intended to exploit their pain.  Parents as a whole were difficult to deal with, they were too damn proud of their kids, and more often than not their children did no wrong in their parents minds.  They were the first to complain and the last to be satisfied, which is why Cornelius could never run Hogwarts.  Parents however, did have one fatal weak spot, one point that if manipulated correctly could give Fudge all the power he'd ever need to neutralize Potter and perhaps Dumbledore as well.  Parents were fiercely protective of their kids.  Amos Diggory needed someone to blame for his son's death, someone he could go after, someone who could pay.  He wasn't satisfied with Dumbledore's explanation; there was no justice in it, no real end.  Fudge had to laugh, he'd been so easy to convince that their should be an investigation, Fudge had skillfully planted the right cues here and there, and by the time Fudge was ready to leave Amos was ranting and raving at him to investigate Potter.  Now Rita was going to go interview him, bringing his thoughts public, and with a respected man such as Amos speaking out it would only be a matter of time before most of the rest of the Hogwarts parents were demanding the ministry insure their children's safety.

Fudge left the Ministry's building and apparated home.  He fully expected to have to have a pile of letters demanding an investigation on his desk tomorrow morning, Diggory's part in the plan was just backup, justification. "By the end of the week Potter would have no credibility left, and Dumbledore will be under heavy scrutiny." Fudge mused. His position would be secure.  He was already ready to move when the time came, a few officials were already looking into the event of the tournaments, his most trusted of course would be appointed to the review committee.  Fudge was ready to act.

Two days later Sirius and Remus had still not heard back from the owl that they had sent Dumbledore.  The papers had not printed another headlining story on the subject though there was a rather scathing interview done with Amos Diggory, where Amos proceeded to insist that the ministry needed to look into the matter so that he and his wife could find peace. The article was on the second page and nothing else had been printed since then, perhaps Rita had just run out of stories to tell.  Yet Sirius was still a bit anxious about what Rita's intentions had been.  So finally just to get Sirius to calm down and leave him alone, Remus decided that perhaps they should try to fire Dumbledore and speak with him directly.  Remus strode over to the fire place where Sirius was waiting for him and threw some dust into the flames and called out, "Albus Dumbledore please."

It was a while before there was any response, and when there was finally someone staring back at them it was Minerva McGonagall.

"Sirius, Remus, what can I do for you?"

"Well we were trying to get a hold of Professor Dumbledore, is he out?"

"I am afraid he's out of the country on business, he probably will not be back until the end of the week. Why, is there a problem?"

Remus quickly answered before Sirius had the opportunity to begin ranting.  "We aren't sure.  Have you read the Daily Prophet recently?"

"Yes, are you concerned about what that ridiculous woman wrote about Harry?"

"Somewhat curious as to her motives would be a better statement, we're concerned she may be maneuvering for something, do you know how to contact Albus?"

"You can send an owl, though it may take a while.  I don't think this is anything to worry about Rita's been nastier than usual this past year, especially where Harry is concerned."

Before Remus could answer Sirius had spoken up, "We know but most of what she had written up until the third task had been mostly harmless rumors, then she wrote that piece about him being dangerous and now she's written about him again, only this time she is far more suggestive. She's going out on a limb calling for an investigation that would implement Harry in murder, it is all well and good to claim he's dangerous, but to try to prove it is taking a risk that isn't Rita's style.  So why do it?"

"I don't know, but it could be nothing, I'll let you know when Albus returns I am sure he will have some insight for us, unless there is something else gentlemen I must return to work."

"Certainly, thank you for your time Minerva."  Remus quickly answered before Sirius could push the issue any further.  With a quick nod Minerva was gone and Remus' living room was quiet again.

"Well I guess we wait, I am going to write Harry, see how he's doing.  He hasn't written back from my last letter yet."  Remus eyed Sirius as he retrieved some parchment and a quill.

"Sirius don't say anything to upset him, he doesn't need to know anything until we do, right?"

"Of course, I am not that thick you know. But I do want to try to write to him as much as possible, if that's the only way that I can be there than I am going to do it as much as possible, or at least until he starts sending me owls telling me to stop being such and overprotective ninny."  Remus had to smile at that last statement.

"Well at least you are aware of it."

"Very funny."


	4. Chapter Four: Misguided Intentions

Disclaimer:  I own nothing, it if course all belongs to the splendiferous JK Rowling.  I just like to borrow the characters every now and then.

A/N 1:  Ack, I am so very sorry to all of those who have already read the fourth chapter to Finding Faith.  Unfortunately the other night when I was typing the second half of this chapter I was a bit distracted and extremely tired.  My muse was saying finish this chapter and post, while my brain was saying write your term paper, while my body was saying must sleep.  These factors combined are what to blame for the unfortunate mess that I called the second chapter to Finding Faith.  So when I read my own chapter the next day I was horrified, but not surprised to find that the writing sucked.  So here my good readers is the real and revised chapter four.  I highly suggest that those of you who have read the original read this one again because there are some additions, which may or may not, be important later.  And please, please, please, review.  Because all of your kind thoughts are what will get the next chapter posted sooner.  Thanks a bunch.

          Darkphoenix

Chapter 3: Misguided Intentions 

     Amos Diggory sat in his living room stirring the cup of tea his wife had made him.  He watched listlessly as his wife continued to clean the spotless kitchen through the open doorway.  The loss of Cedric had hit them both very hard, and at the time Amos had thought Cedric's death had been the hardest for him.  He'd cried for days over the loss of his only child, and then slowly his sadness had begun to morph into feelings of guilt, and finally feelings of rage. Yet while he was so preoccupied dealing with his own suffering he failed to notice the quiet degeneration of his wife.  His wife had been the strong one in the initial days after the loss of Cedric, allowing her husband the time he needed to come to terms with the reality of Cedric's death, but in that time Amos had managed to ignore his wife's silent struggle to cope with the loss of her only child.  By the time Amos had made the transition from sorrow and guilt to rage, an emotion that allowed him to feel, his wife had already slipped into her silent and mundanely routine lifestyle, and now Amos feared it was too late to reach out and give her the comfort he should have provided as the husband all along.  But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

The anger Amos felt had only intensified since he had begun to loose his wife to her own mind.  Yet nothing that he did seemed to abate that anger in the least.  Quite to the contrary the hate and rage that had been building inside of him only seemed to get worse with each passing day, and the fact that there had been no justice served to his family only made the hatred grow.  He'd was as close to the edge of sanity as one could get, loosing his son so suddenly and having to watch his wife die a little more each day had made him feel so meaningless, so insignificant, so powerless.  But just as he'd been ready to walk over that edge, to throw what was left of his life away something had pulled him back from the edge, someone had given him the power to do something in memory of his son, and perhaps give him the power to save his ailing wife.  

Two days ago Cornelius Fudge had come by the Diggory home to offer his condolences.  Initially Amos had wanted none of the ministers fake apologies and phony condolences.  It wasn't until half way through his conversation with the minister that Amos had begun to realize that he had been presented with an opportunity to channel his rage and frustration into something that would serve a greater purpose.

As it stood no one had been prosecuted for his son's death, no one had paid for the loss they had inflicted upon the Diggory family.  And after listening to Fudge's long winded speeches and updates on happenings with in the ministry he began to doubt what Dumbledore had told him.  A resurrected dark lord couldn't have killed Cedric; it simply wasn't logical. He'd just been so willing to believe whatever Dumbledore had told him in an attempt to hide from the truth, and to hide from the pain. Fudge was right the dark lord hadn't returned, he wasn't to blame for his son's death.  Then Amos thought that perhaps it had been an accident, the tournament had been undoubtedly dangerous, perhaps… no that wasn't right either.  The official report had stated that Cedric had been the victim of the killing curse; someone had cast Avada Kedavra on his son, but who?  Amos could feel himself losing patience, h feel himself losing patience, hfering for the loss of his son, no one had given his family justice, no one knew what really happened, except for, that's right Harry Potter was the one that had ended up taking the championship.  The championship that should have been Cedric's, the one that Mr. Potter had claimed that he and Cedric had tied for, but no one really knew that that was what had happened did they?  Nobody knew, no one except for Mr. Potter.  It was at this thought that Amos lost all self-control he had when speaking to Cornelius.  Before Amos knew what he was doing he was speaking to Fudge in a full-blown tirade.  Why had there been no justice?  Why had there been no inquiry?  Why had Mr. Potter, the Mr. Potter who had been so jealous of the fact that Cedric had beaten him in quidditch, why had he not been questioned, minor or not he had a responsibility to tell the truth about the happenings of the tri wizard tournament.  Before Amos realized what had happened he had shoved the Minister of magic out his front door demanding an inquiry _against _Harry Potter for the death of his son, threatening that if no action had been taken with in twenty four hours that he was going to go to the press and release a scathing editorial against the ministry and Hogwarts.  Fudge needless to say left quickly while apologizing profusely, and making worthless promises in between.  But Amos hadn't trusted Fudge, or his ridiculous assurances, which is why when Rita Skeeter had shown up later that day requesting an interview Amos had invited the repulsive woman into his home and served her his finest afternoon tea.  He would see justice done, even if no one else would.  And even though Amos knew his actions could never bring his son home, perhaps just perhaps he could save what was left of it.

     Night had fallen upon number four Privet Drive and most of the neat little home's occupants were asleep.  One however remained awake.  Harry Potter was up in his bedroom trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, yet finding very little success.  Finally resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon he quietly crawled out of bed and pulled up the loose floorboards in his room and retrieved his birthday gift from Hermione and went to sit near his open window.  The day had been insufferably hot and humid, and unfortunately for Harry it had also been a Tuesday.  Tuesday's and Saturdays were the days that Harry was expected to do all of the yard work around the house, and today, despite the wicked weather had been no different.  Harry had toiled most of the day away outside mowing the lawn and weeding the garden.  He had been ready to go inside and clean up at around four thirty, just when the heat and humidity were beginning to weigh him down.  Yet upon reaching the kitchen his aunt handed him a small glass of water and told him that his uncle had wanted him to paint the new garden trellises and the put them up against the house where his aunt was going to be growing some creeping plants.  That little chore had taken him until past suppertime.  Harry scowled, of all the nights to be restless, this just wasn't it, he was completely exhausted but just couldn't bring himself to rest in the stuffy room.  Harry looked out his window again and sighed.  Perhaps the brooding weather meant a storm was coming, Harry inwardly hoped so, a good shower or two would help to return the temperature to a more amiable state, even though it would mean that he'd be trapped inside with his aunt and cousin all day. This summer had continued to progress down a nasty little path where his relatives were concerned, it seemed that nearly everything Harry did set them off, it was to the point that he avoided the family at all times possible, when he wasn't doing chore he was usually hiding up in his room, usually either writing letters, or doing as he was doing now and placing and reviewing memories in the magical scrapbook Hermione had sent him.  After silently reviewing one his favorite memories, the amazing bouncing ferret incident as he called it, he glanced up and saw an owl rapidly approaching his bedroom window.  

Harry quickly stepped aside to allow the owl enough room to swoop in and gracefully land on his bed.  The unfamiliar owl hooted in a rather impatient way and stuck out his leg.  Sensing the owl's impatience Harry hurried over and undid the letter and allowed the owl to drink from Hedwig's water basin.  Harry turned over the letter and found it addressed to him in a handwriting that looked vaguely familiar.  Curiosity getting the better of him he sat down on his bed and tore the letter open only to find that it was from Professor Lupin, it read:

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope this letter finds you well.  I wanted to write and tell you hello as well as dispel any untruths Snuffles may have been telling you about me in his frequent letters.  First of all I want to say that no matter what he says I have not poisoned him with my cooking, though the thought is rather tempting seeing as how Snuffles could drive a person to drink.  Secondly, I do not wake him up at what he so eloquently describes as the, and I quote "butt crack of dawn."  Tell snuffles that by ten o' clock the day is nearly half through.  I swear he is worse than a child, he eats, he sleeps, and he makes a larger mess than a herd of rampaging Hippogriffs.  Then he claims that I've hidden his things from him when he can't find them, perhaps he should try looking for them where they belong. He also always has to have the last word in everything; I swear he does it just to see if he can annoy me into an early grave. Harry, are you sure that the Dursleys wouldn't like a pet, perhaps a dog?  _

_Finally and on a more important note, as your ex professor I must ask:  Are you keeping up with your studies? The O.W.L.S are just around the corner!  And I am sure that you want to be prepared.  Anyway, I hope your having a pleasant summer, and if you have any ideas on how to keep that mangy mutt in line please let me know immediately or I may have to resort to more drastic measures._

_                        Remus_

Harry had to smile.  Sirius must be driving Remus absolutely mad if he was writing to Harry for help.  Harry was getting ready to reply to the letter when another fell out from behind the one Remus had sent, the writing on this one Harry recognized immediately, apparently Sirius wasn't going to let Professor Lupin have the last word this time either.

_Harry,_

_I don't know what Remus told you as he wouldn't let me read his letter but I'm pretty sure I can guess.  I swear to you Harry he really did try to poison me!  It is a wonder that the man is still alive after all these years of cooking for himself.  Honestly the other night he tried to feed me a bowl of these wimpy little green things, with the blandest strips of meat, (he says they were chicken), I have ever tasted.  I swear the cave rats had more flavor than Moony's cooking.  Whatever happened to a good old-fashioned cheeseburger?  I swear I am wasting away on what he's feeding me.  To make matters worse he's waking me up at the most ungodly hours of the morning.  I swear the sun isn't even in the middle of the sky yet!  I swear the old wolf needs to get a life, and maybe some groceries.  Know any charms to make someone more fun?  Anyway whatever he wrote don't believe him, be on your guard he's cunning the old wolf, and I wouldn't want you sucked into his so called healthy lifestyle!_

_Speaking of which how are you holding up, are you having a decent summer?  I know from your letter's you miss your friends, hopefully we can work on you getting to the burrow a bit later in the summer, Moony even said he'd talk to Dumbledore about you spending a few days here with us, only if you want to of course.  We'd understand if you'd rather go strait to the burrow once Dumbledore okay's it.  Seriously though if you need anything please write, I'll do whatever I can, but for your own sake I hope Dudley's off his diet because I think you'd rather starve than eat what Moony would send you.  Anyway keep your head up and write soon._

_                                  Snuffles_

Harry smiled.  His godfather had been sending mail so regularly that he must be writing Harry the moment he received a reply.  Sometimes it was difficult to reply to Sirius truthfully, most of the time he wanted to know that Harry was all right.  And Harry supposed he was all right.  He had been fairing a bit better than when he'd initially arrived at his Aunt's home, Hermione's gift had been so very timely.  Inserting all of his best memories of his friends and adventures at Hogwarts had helped him to remember some of the good times, and distract him from the ever-present thoughts of the bad ones.  Yet nothing could protect him from his dreams, which were occurring nightly with out fail and occasionally more than once, and that combined with the treatment his relatives gave him, and his lack of proper food and sleep was quickly ebbing at the little happiness he had gained in the last few days.

Part of Harry really wanted to write to someone, and for once be completely truthful.  But whom could he write to?  Hermione would probably get upset, and pity his situation, something that was not only unhelpful, but made Harry feel incredibly awkward.  Ron would probably just get angry and incensed on his behalf, pull the twins into taking a ridiculously foolish risk like they had in second year, leading Harry to feel responsible and guilty over their actions.  There was always Sirius though, Harry had thought several times of writing to his godfather, but had never been able to respond to Sirius truthfully in any of his letters.  Harry partly wondered how he could even go about telling his godfather he was miserable.  What could he say?  Something like, "Hey Snuffles, I know you said if I needed anything I could talk to you, so here goes.  I'm having nightmares of Voldemort's return and the Dursley's are treating me like a filthy burden, what do I do?"  Harry could hardly imagine writing that let alone reading it, which led him to the other reason he didn't write, how would Sirius react?  Maybe Sirius would rush over, putting himself in danger because Harry hadn't been big enough to do some chores and ignore a few nightmares.  Besides how could Harry justify that sort of action from Sirius?  Sirius barely knew Harry, why should he have to place himself at risk for a Godson he never knew, that would be terribly selfish on Harry's part.  But if nothing else Harry knew deep down that Sirius would end up worrying and feeling guilty for not being able to raise Harry from the start.  Harry knew enough from the questions Sirius always asked that he already felt guilty enough, and Harry just couldn't bring himself to make things any worse or any more awkward between them.  So with that in mind Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill to write back to Remus and Sirius.  He was sure if he tried he could allay some of Sirius' worries and maybe even suggest a few threats for Remus to use against Padfoot. Then after he was through maybe just maybe he could get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep in before he was woken by his aunt and presented with a dreadfully long list of chores.

     The weather outside the Ministry's main grounds was bleak and rapidly turning nasty at the early morning hour of eight.  Yet one man seemed to walk with a rather joyful spring in his step, the stormy weather obviously not spoiling his morning.  Cornelius Fudge strode through the Ministry's main doors and proceeded to his private chambers.  

Today would be the day that Fudge would finally be rid of Harry Potter, and would have Albus Dumbledore so distracted he'd have no time to continue to work against Fudge, yes today would be a grand day indeed.  Cornelius had worked long and hard to get to this moment.  He'd made an alliance with an insufferable woman, although a brilliant reporter.  There was no question Rita Skeeter had done her job well.  The first article she had written had received a great deal of attention; though admittedly not all of the attention had been the kind Fudge had wanted.  He had received several howlers demanding a retraction of the slander against Potter.  But those letters had merely been a fraction of the mail received by the Daily Prophet and the ministry, the rest of the mail had held rather unfriendly sentiments towards Potter, and those were the letters the minister was banking his entire campaign on.

The letters alone however may not have been enough to conduct an investigation, and openly attack Potter.  There had to be another catalyst.  Fudge had thought long and hard about whom he could approach.  Rita alone was not enough to discredit Potter to the point of no return, even though she had managed to strike several detrimental blows to his character, her character kept her from being enough to bring the boy down.  Even though many read her, and would often believe the gossip she wrote, they also knew her deep down for the catty gossip she was.  No Fudge had needed someone respected by the whole of the wizarding community, someone the people could relate to, someone easy to manipulate.  And then like a bolt of lightning it had hit him, Amos Diggory.

The last time Fudge had seen Amos he'd been a total mess, his wife was at her wits end trying to pull him back from massive depression.  But lately, through mutual friends and contacts Fudge had come to realize that the roles in that household had reversed.  Now it seemed that his wife was slowly deteriorating over the loss of their son, while Amos seemed to be getting angry, and anger is an emotion Fudge knew he could manipulate.

So polite as you please Fudge had gone to see Amos and his wife, and found to his morbid delight that things were much worse than rumored.  It took Fudge less than thirty minutes to very carefully provoke Amos into a full blown up roar, demanding justice, at first for his family, and by the time Fudge left, Amos was demanding punishment, and against Harry Potter.  Realizing that he'd been given his golden opportunity Fudge hastily got back to his office and fire called Rita Skeeter.  Fudge assured her that if she got over to Amos's now she could get a fiery story and editorial from Amos's point of view about the death of his son and the events surrounding the tri wizard tournament.  Rita had readily agreed, and that article had been the turning point against Potter.  Letters poured in the ministry in support of Amos Diggory, and Fudge had no choice but to allow the investigation to come to light, and when he took what information he'd allowed his most trusted personnel to gather, and Rita Skeeter to organize and summarize to a court, a conclusion was rapidly reached to try Harry Potter for the murder of Cedric Diggory. 

     Thirty minutes later, after Fudge had changed into some official robes he entered a large conference room with an air of confidence and took his place in an empty chair at the head of the table.  Facing him was twelve of the ministry's most powerful governors, many of them Fudges' most loyal supporters, and those few who were not were known to have a certain dislike for Potter.  All of whom had been hand selected by Fudge to try this case, among them was Lucious Malfoy.  Fudge rose, quieted the people present and muttered an incantation that began the meeting.  The chamber doors were magically sealed, and recording devices enabled.  The minister then rose and cleared his throat.

"Today we are here to review the case of the happenings of the tri wizard tournament, and establish fault in the death of Cedric Diggory.  Harry Potter is hereby formally charged with pre meditative murder.  It is our sad job to unbiasedly review the evidence against Mr. Potter and come to a formal conclusion.  Are there any questions before we begin?"

     "Will Mr. Potter be joining us today?"

"No, as a minor he is not required to appear in court, and as his guardians are muggles I feel that having them join us would present more complications than are necessary."  That had been the last of Fudge's strategic moves.  Harry Potter would never know that he'd been tried for murder until he was being arrested.  As a minor he did not have to appear in court, and of course there was the benefit that his muggle guardians would only have complicated matters.

"Wouldn't it be essential to hear what Potter has to say?"

"When arranging this trial the prospect of Potter being brought in was discussed, however since Potter is a minor he is not allowed to be questioned under veritiserum, at least not without consent from a guardian who knows the risks veritiserum may present to a minor.  While the risks are indeed small Potter has no magical guardian, and it was felt that his relatives would not be able to make an educated decision on the matter.  It was also agreed upon that while many of us tend to have a bias towards the Potter boy it would be counter productive to hear him speak with out a way to ensure it is the truth.  Therefore he will remain absent from today's hearing."  Fudge smiled inwardly.  Everything he had done in arranging this trial had been more or less with in the confines of the law. There should be no snags in his plan from here on in; he had personally made sure that the evidence would speak for itself.  Upon realizing that no one else had any comments he cleared his throat and began. 

"Very well, if there are no more questions let us begin by reviewing the known facts."

After three long hours of presentation and commentary Fudge rose, "You have all heard the evidence against Mr. Potter, it is time we vote on a sentence.  Everyone cast your vote silently with your wand so that we may project the outcome anonymously."  When everyone had indicated they had finished Fudge displayed the results magically in the center of the room.  Harry potter was convicted of murder by over three quarters of the jury.

"Very well then, issue an order to send five aurors to the Potter residence this evening, in order that Mr. Potter may be arrested and begin his maximum sentence of thirty years in Azkaban for a minor convicted of murder."

"Minister Fudge, if I may speak?"  Lucious Malfoy had risen from his chair with a feral glint in his eye.

"Yes, go ahead Mr. Malfoy."

"Minister, might I suggest that you send someone a bit more competent for Potter, a few unspeakables perhaps."

"One of the witches who was still present gasped and spoke up, "Unspeakables, for a fifteen year old boy, Minister I hardly think that will be necessary."

Malfoy spoke up quickly before Fudge could reply, "No you don't think woman.  Potter was capable of casting the killing curse on a fellow class mate, a feat that at such a young age must require a great deal of dark power.  Do you think he would hesitate to use the curse on a few aurors?  There is no telling how dangerous or desperate he may be.  It is best to send wizards who are prepared to handle any situation."

"I see your point Mr. Malfoy.  A standard team of four unspeakables will be sent to the Potter residence."  Fudge then fire called his assistant to come and retrieve all of the recordings and written records of the proceedings to be verified and filed, it was done, and so was Potter.

     Lucious Malfoy left the Ministry with a malevolent expression on his face.  Aurors were soft, and would most likely be humbled in the presence of the bloody boy who lived.  Unspeakables on the other hand were more likely to curse first and ask questions later, he hadn't ever heard of a raid conducted by Unspeakables where their target or their surroundings hadn't been greatly disrupted.  Most were the type who loved their job, and took every threat very seriously.  There would be no mercy for Potter at the tip of their wands.  Lucious smiled as he stepped past the apparation point.  There of course was no need for the use of Unspeakables, but Lucious owed Mr. Potter a debt, for Potter had lost Lucious his servant, and Lucious Malfoy always repaid his debts.  Just as he was preparing to apparate home, a familiar burning sensation occurred in Lucious' arm, his master was calling.  "Excellent timing," Lucious mumbled, "for I have news that will exalt me above all others."

     Harry was sitting by the window upstairs in Dudley's second bedroom reviewing another memory he had placed in the gift Hermione had sent him.  It had been a particularly nasty day.  The weather had been muggy and hot, nearly insufferable in Harry's opinion.  He really wished it would storm already, he wasn't sure he could stand another day like today.  His aunt and cousin had remained in the house all day while his uncle had gone to work, and finally his aunt having nothing for him to do inside sent him outside to prune the hedges, among other mundane chores to keep him out of the way.  Harry had finally been allowed to come in and go to his room after his uncle had come home.  Harry would give just about anything for a storm to break the oppressive heat and thick air.  Hearing his uncle raise his voice pulled Harry pot of his reverie. 

"I don't know who you freaks think you are, but get off of my property immediately."  Harry could hear Vernon yelling in a rather undignified manner, he got up from his position by the window and, Hermione's gift in his pocket and poked his head out of his room to see his Uncle Vernon slam the door on who ever was on the front steps.

     His Uncle spun around and glared up the stairs as if looking for the target of his anger, when his eyes landed on Harry his face grew purple and he began to yell again.

"Boy it is bad enough those freaks are constantly sending you letters, but I will not tolerate them invading our home…!"  Uncle Vernon was quickly approaching a level of anger Harry had never seen before.  But whom was Vernon talking about, no one he knew would come to the door, especially not with out owling him first.  Feeling as if a block of ice had slipped down his throat and settled in his stomach Harry spun on his heel and raced back into his room.

     Harry quickly retrieved his wand from under the floorboards where he'd managed to hide it with a few of his books while his relatives had been asleep.  The only people he could think of that would come to the house without telling him were people that he certainly didn't want to see.  He continued his train of thought as walked to his door, trying to run through all of the possibilities was making him even more nervous. Harry's thought process led him to a question that took at least a bit of the edge off. If whoever was at the door were dark wizards why knock?  Why not just…

     Harry's train of thought was lost as he heard a loud bang and rushed around the corner to see the front door blown off.  At that point it was utter pandemonium.  His uncle was screaming at the two intruders while his aunt and cousin were cowering in fear.  The two wizards cloaked in deep red robes entered the house wands at the ready.  Upon seeing Harry on the stairs, with a wand by his side the two wizards began to throw curses.  Harry's Uncle got in the way of the first one, and was thrown back into the wall.  Harry used the time that the wizards were distracted to run for the kitchen.  He was nearly there when he heard his aunt and then shortly after his cousin stop screaming, he assumed that whoever the intruders were had either stunned them or worse.  Yet that was the confusing part, these wizards did not dress as death eaters would have, so what was going on?  Harry felt more than thought that the best course of action would be to leave the house, and ponder what these people wanted later.  As Harry entered the kitchen intent on making for the back door he felt a zip of magic streak past his ear, and decidedly shot the stunning curse followed by a few others he had learned last year over his shoulder.  Harry was just reaching the back door when he sensed rather than saw the wizards come in behind him.  Just as he swung the door open he felt the first of two curses hit him in the back, he had barely begun to fall when he felt two more hit him in the chest.  So there had been four?  Two at the front, and then two in the back of the house, Harry had never stood a chance.  Harry barely registered the blurry shapes standing above him before he began to determinedly blink against the darkness enfolding him, but ultimately he lost the battle as two figures hoisted him up.  The last feelings that Harry Potter felt before he passed out were feelings of confusion and undiluted fear.

A/N:  Was it too rushed, I though it was.  Oh well finals and all that, but I wanted to get this out to you.  Please review.

Thanks to:

Riss:  You have to like it you're my friend.  But thank you anyway.  I hope this story is going in a good direction; this was a difficult chapter to write, but oh well.

Karate Elf:  Thank you sooo much.

Mo: Thank you so much.

Vampire Child: I'm glad you liked the gift; it'll play a role later.

Cas:  Thank you for reviewing.  I'm not sure that fudge is IC either but it's hard to tell because there isn't much known about his character so I am taking a little leeway.

Evil Snapple pie: Don't worry Sirius is going to be a main character in this story so stay tuned.

Sabrina: I'm glad you liked the conspiracy.  And I hope you keep reading.

Heather:  Thanks for the review and don't worry they'll get what's coming.


	5. Chapter Five: Breaking News

A/N:  I am shocked you people haven't killed me yet, I know that I promised you guys the next chapter like in November, but I have good reasons, I swear.  First of all finals caught up with me and I simply didn't have the time to write, and after than you couldn't get me near the computer not to mention all the holiday shopping I had to do.  Then in a style that is uniquely mine I had an epiphany.  I decided that graduating a semester early just wasn't good enough, no I decided that I had to graduate this summer therefore going to law school this fall rather than next.  What can I say when I get going I am gone, and unfortunately I just can't stand undergrad anymore.  So what does this mean for you the reader and me the writer?  Well there is good news and bad news, the bad news is that I cannot update regularly if at all due to the fact that a.) I am taking 24 hrs. this semester of course work most of which involves heavy reading, b.) My LSAT is on Feb. 8th, and I need a score in the mid 160's to get into my first choice school, (by the way anyone considering Law School I suggest you run screaming in the other direction while you aren't completely hooked on the idea, and for any of you who are for Gods sake start studying now for the LSAT that thing is a bitch with a capital B) and c.) all my college apps are due and unfortunately require an essay about why I want to go to law school, anyone out there have any ideas why, at this point I'll take any hints you have!!!!!  The good news is that after Feb. 8th I am pretty much free as I will have everything concerning Law School finished and done, so after that I should be able to post a bit more regularly, every week or so, as for now here is the much awaited chapter.  Thanks to all who were super patient, responses to reviewers are at the bottom!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter 4: Breaking News

          Remus rummaged through the cupboards in the kitchen, mentally arguing with himself what to eat for breakfast, he settled for grabbing a class of milk and conjuring a muffin.  Sirius would probably be up soon and then he could make a nice breakfast.  Remus slumped into one of the nearby kitchen chairs gazing out the window he had opened and inhaled the fresh summer breeze.  He was up early, even by his standards the sun was barely cresting the horizon and the Daily Prophet hadn't been delivered as of yet.  It had been an extremely restless night for Remus, and not one that he could readily explain.  He'd tossed and turned most of the night, but in reality Remus had been unsettled since the early evening the night before.  It had almost felt like the days before his transformation felt, the underlying tension within his system, the quiet before the storm even and yet his transformation was two weeks away.  A fairly violent storm had blown through the previous evening, and sometimes if mother nature was particularly unbalanced the wolf inside him would stir, but that didn't explain the anxiety he still felt this morning.  Remus gave an internal snort, maybe he was just getting old and paranoid, between Sirius living with him, Voldemort on the rise, and the fact that he was as worried about Harry as Sirius was it really shouldn't be such a surprise that he had been losing some sleep.  Remus was just about to abandon his glass of milk for a strong cup of coffee when he saw Harry's snowy owl swoop through the window with a letter tied to her leg.  Remus smiled he'd heard Sirius begin to move around not long ago upstairs, he'd wait until he came downstairs to give him Harry's letter, he should be pretty relieved to hear from his godson so quickly, and judging by the parchment this letter was quite a bit longer than the last few that Harry had written, it should help ease everyone's nerves.  Before Remus could get trapped with in his own thoughts again he heard Sirius enter the kitchen, dragging his feet.  Remus looked up to see his friend wearing two miss matched socks, a pair of old pajama pants, an open robe with no shirt on underneath, and hair that made it look like he'd been standing in an electrical storm, Remus spluttered in his coffee and attempted to hide his smile.  

Sirius came down stairs at a time he determined to be entirely too early in the morning to be healthy, but Remus had made such a racket taking a shower that after attempting to return to peaceful oblivion for nearly forty minutes he conceded and got out of bed, quickly pulling on some socks to spare his feet from the perpetually cold kitchen floor and tromped down the stairs praying Remus had brewed a strong pot of coffee.  He entered and hadn't proceeded ten steps before he heard Remus splutter into his coffee.  Sirius spun and gave his best "it's too early in the morning why shouldn't I wipe that smile off your face in an extremely painful way," look.  Remus for his part correctly interpreting the glare held Harry's letter just out of his friends reach.

"Before you rip into me, perhaps you would rather read the letter Hedwig brought for you."

"Harry responded already?"

"Yep, and his response looks longer than usual."

          "Well hand it over then."

"Oh, I don't know, I could just keep it and torture you as I read it first, as it is addressed to both of us."

Before Remus could react Sirius had taken a leap at the letter Remus held and dislodged it from his grip.  Yet upon doing so had managed to knock Remus over the back of his chair and the two of them went sprawling to the kitchen floor.  Just as they were disentangling themselves Remus heard the fire chime twice, the safety signal that someone was attempting to floo directly into his home.  He quickly picked himself and shot a meaningful glance at Sirius who gave a quick nod of response and transformed, quietly situating himself obediently on the living room rug.

"State your name please." Remus stepped back from the fireplace so he could be ready to admit the visitor.

"Albus Dumbledore," was the response Remus heard.  He quickly muttered the password and awaited Albus to step through.  Remus was beginning to wonder if the elder wizard had missed the grate when finally the flames flared and Albus wearily stepped into the living room.

Albus wearily dusted off his slightly disheveled robes and quickly glanced around the room.  "I am glad to see you are awake Remus, and you as well Sirius, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to rouse you this early."

"That's fine Albus, I was beginning to worry though, and it seemed like perhaps you had missed our fireplace, floo usually doesn't take so long."

"Ah. Yes well I'm afraid that I was out of the country and international floo takes quite a bit of time, it was however imperative that I speak with you this morning.  Sirius if you would join us in the living room?"

Albus wearily sunk into one of the armchairs near the fire and conjured some tea for everyone, Sirius and Remus settled on the couch.

"Headmaster, is everything alright?"

          "I am afraid not Sirius, I'm afraid that dealings with the ministry, as they often do, have snowballed, and this time there has been an unfortunate victim."

"Let me guess. Our esteemed minister is attempting to cut his losses and save his reputation, who did he have to fire to get away with it?"

"I wish it were that simple Sirius, but I'm afraid that the consequences are far more dire.  I am prepared to tell you everything that I know, and rest assured I am formulating ideas to counter the situation as rapidly as possible, but I must insist that you do not interrupt me as what I have to tell is a rather long and complicated story."

Remus eyed the headmaster warily, something had managed to transform the normally jovial man into a man who looked every bit the age he was, but what could possibly have occurred.  Albus hadn't looked this defeated when he'd fire called Remus to explain Voldemort's rebirth what could possible have occurred?

Albus leaned back into his chair and took a sip of his tea trying to figure out the best way to breach the subject at hand.  He was positive that Remus would have his hands full with Sirius by the end of this discussion, yet he had the suspicion that Remus would probably be as effected by what he had to say if not more so than Sirius.  He had after all fought the headmaster particularly hard at the conclusion of Harry's third year to have Harry placed in his care, it had been most difficult to deny his request, especially because Harry seemed to feel so guilty over Peter's escape, and Sirius' missed chance at freedom.  He outwardly sighed, this would probably prove to be one of the most difficult situations he had ever been in.  Well honesty was probably the best way to go, he owed Harry's family that much.

"I am afraid that Sirius is partially right, Cornelius Fudge had made attempts to not only hide the evidence of Voldemort's return in an effort to save his dwindling popularity, but has also taken measures to discredit those who would openly oppose him."

"Surely he can't hope to move against you Albus?"

"I am afraid that he is Remus, though not directly.  He knows that he would have a very difficult time slanderizing me to the public.  No I'm afraid he has chosen to act through someone else, and in turn blame their delinquency on me."  

"I should begin by saying that I have a few very loyal contacts with in the ministry that have been attempting to filter as much information to me as possible, and that I did receive your owls concerning Rita Skeeter's articles.  I now possess the information that you sought while I was out of reach."

"It would seem that Rita has chosen to align herself with Fudge and use the power of the press to do his dirty work.  The articles that she wrote were meant to masterfully debunk Harry from the pedestal that the wizarding world has placed him upon.  The first article was meant to plant doubt with in the minds of the public, Rita wrote the article in an effort to raise suspicion against Harry, and in the meantime Fudge attempted to publicly defend the boy, though without much real drive behind his statements.  Letters from concerned parents began to flood the ministry, everything was kept with in those Fudge placed his utmost faith in.  This in itself was not enough, so Rita wrote the second article in which she interviewed Amos Diggory, it is my belief that Fudge had already been to the Diggory residence to stir up the reaction he needed from Amos.  Amos, being the upstanding citizen that he is, called for action to be taken in an effort to bring whom ever was responsible for his son's death to justice, and Rita made sure to paint the perfect public image of a grieving family.  The public called for an inquiry into the happenings of the tri wizard tournament, and more specifically into Harry."

"What do we do Albus?  Harry lives with muggles, they are in no position to provide Harry any protection from the ministry officials.  Certainly we can remove him to a wizarding residence, after all the last article was published the day before yesterday, surely the ministry hasn't worked through all of the inquiry yet, I would take him, and I'm sure the Weasley's would as well."

"I am afraid that it is too late for that Remus.  It would seem that fudge has been gathering evidence even before he contracted Rita, yesterday morning he called a secret tribunal to 'discuss' Harry and his involvement."

At this point Sirius' eyes went wide, "they are already discussing criminal proceedings? How is that possible?  They haven't removed Harry from his home have they?"

          "The meeting wasn't called to investigate Harry, Sirius.  Fudge called a tribunal, which as minister of magic is his right.  He hand selected members he knew to either blindly support him, have a well known fear of the rise of another dark wizard, or in the case of Lucious Malfoy who served someone high ranking in power and society with a grudge against Harry.  The council was called to try Harry of murder."

At this point Remus' jaw must have unhinged from his face, a look of indignant disbelief soon took over his features and he spoke, "Are they holding him at the ministry detaining facilities while they conduct this mock trial, does he have representation, is there anyway for us to remove him, possibly run with him?"

Dumbledore held up his hand to stop the flow of questions, "I would have suggested that we hide him myself had I known what Fudge was up to, unfortunately it is too late for that.  The trial ended with in a few hours of its start, Harry was never present, as a minor living with muggles he need not be."

Sirius who had managed to contain most of his fury to that point managed to ground out, "then where is my godson."

Dumbledore leveled both Sirius and Remus with his steely gaze, "it was reported to me late last night that in the early evening hours of yesterday Fudge ordered the arrest of Harry.  A standard team of Unspeakables hit the house and Harry's family.  Harry was brought into custody."

"Where IS he, Albus?"  Sirius looked absolutely terrified of the answer he'd receive, and Dumbledore seemed to steel himself in preparation of Sirius' imenent reaction.

"Shortly after apprehension Harry was apparated to the eastern shore line for transport."

'No. Not Harry, not him too!' Was about all that Sirius could think, until Albus confirmed his worst fears.

"Harry was then placed on the boat to begin his maxim sentence for a minor convicted of murder in azkaban."

          In that moment Sirius seemed to slump into his seat, completely dazed, not the reaction expected but perhaps a more frightening one than the fury that was expected.  Remus gripped his shoulder and leaned towards Albus.  "What do we do?"

"We must act quickly, first we go to Privet dr. to gather our own data.  Then we'll consult with an old friend of mine. We need to attempt to free Harry legally first.  Though rest assured under no circumstances will I leave him there indefinitely.  I have to arrage a few things at Hogwarts, but I'll be back this afternoon, I was hoping to have you accompany me to Harry's home."

"Of course Albus."  Remus rose and walked towards the fireplace with the elder wizard.  Upon glancing back at Sirius Albus leaned towards Remus to give him his parting advice.

"Keep him positive, and keep him away from the Daily Prophet, I think the article on the front page would cause too many problems for either one of just now, which is why I came so early.  I'll see you shortly."  With that Albus left Remus' living room.  Remus stood stock still for just a moment before steeling himself and turning to face his friend.

"Padfoot," Sirius was unresponsive.  "We'll get him back Sirius, we'll get Harry back, and then we're not letting him go again. Okay?"

"No.  No, it is not okay.  But your right were going to get him back, and so help me god if he never recovers Fudge will pay with his own blood."

'Good,' thought Remus, at least he is prepared, and for the moment is holding it together.

"Padfoot lets get cleaned up, I want to be ready when Albus returns." And hide the paper due to arrive shortly from you.

A/N:  I know, crappy ending but it felt as good as it was going to.  Originally this chapter was supposed to have three more parts and several people's points of view, but I thought you would rather have this than wait for all of that.  Again sorry I know I said I'd reply to everyone who reviewed, but I am out of time so that too will have to wait.  Please review, it keeps me going and again, in two weeks my time for writing will be much greater, hopefully I'll post before then, but if not pray or wish or hope or whatever that I do really well on my LSAT on the 8th.  I'll need it.  Thanks, Darkphoenix.


	6. Chapter 6: The Trip Over

**Authors Note: **Hello to everyone out there!  I am so terribly sorry that I have seemed to have dropped off of the face of the world, and in most ways I wish I had.  This semester has been nothing short of painful.  The good news is that basically I am done applying to law schools, hopefully to never have to repeat the experience.  I am still waiting for responses from quite a few but basically most of the immediate stress is over.  The bad news is that in order to go to law school I have to finish 12hrs. This summer in my insane attempt to graduate a year early, plus work full time, long story short, I can update more regularly, and I do have the next several chapters either in rough draft or extensive outline.  So look for a post at the very least every other week.  Anyway thank you to all who have been patient I really appreciate it.  On with the show!

     His head burned, which was terribly odd because at the same time he was rapidly becoming aware of the bitter cold.  Harry blinked rapidly, trying to clear his eyes enough to figure out why he was so cold, and why his head was hurting and burning at the same time.  It didn't feel like his scar, so what was going on?  Harry was losing the battle with his eyes so he attempted to rub them clear, only to have a blinding bout of panic hit him as he realized that his hands were bound behind him.  The panic did help to clear the haze that his mind was in, though there was nothing he could do for his eyes, as the winter sea spray continually sprayed over the front of the small skiff he was on, probably accounting for the bitter cold he felt.  The burning was more distinct now as well, and he concluded reasonably that it was from the salt water spraying into his open wounds that he'd received only a few hours prior.

Harry tried to quell the nausea that was brewing inside of him, but whether it was from the tossing of the small vessel or from the rising fear of realizing exactly what had happened to him he wasn't sure.  The disjointed memories seemed to be coming to him at a rapid fire pace, and in his haze it was taking him a while to put them into what could be considered a reasonable explanation of what had occurred.  The last thing that Harry remembered was trying to get out of the Dursley's back door as several wizards had come streaming in through the front.  Harry struggled to focus, the corners of his mind growing foggy again, he didn't think that the wizards that had come to Privet Dr. had been death eaters, they had seemed too official, and weren't dressed the same either.  More memories vague and less coherent were making it to his brain now.  He vaguely remembered being eneverated before falling unconscious again, probably due to the cut that was causing that nasty stinging sensation on his temple.  Vague voices were floating back to him again, and this time he recalled a wizard speaking to him as he was hoisted into the skiff.

"Harry Potter, you have been tried and convicted of the murder of Cedric Diggory, you herby will begin your sentence of thirty years in Azkaban prison."

Harry felt his stomach drop again, he wasn't sure how he'd known where he was headed but he had, and now the full reality of the situation was hitting him.  He'd been convicted of murder.  He'd never see his friends again, never fly again, he wouldn't even be able to finish school. He wouldn't last thirty days in Azkaban never mind thirty years.

But what had happened, why hadn't anyone warned him this was coming.  Surely Dumbledore didn't believe them.  Did Dumbledore even know?  What about his friends did they know where he was, and what had happened?  And Sirius!  

"Oh Sirius…" at the though of his Godfather Harry really did loose the battle with his stomach.  He threw up the meager contents of the food he'd had most recently, but due to the bindings that kept him ramrod strait and unable to move he only managed to soil the front of his grey prison robes.  Harry had little time to contemplate how Sirius would feel knowing that Harry was now the one place Sirius would do anything to prevent him from ever seeing.  Before his thoughts could linger any longer on Sirius Harry felt the ominous cold that had nothing to do with the weather settle into his bones.  The shore line was with in fifteen feet, he hadn't noticed it through the thick haze that seemed to surround the rocky island, and he could clearly see five robed figures awaiting his arrival.  The familiar screams and pleadings of his mother were beginning to encompass his already hurting mind, and the last thing he would be aware of for at least forty- eight hours was the tremor of fear and absolute despair that raced down his spine as several pairs of bony hands pulled him from the boat and dragged him along the rocky path that led to the looming fortress.

     Remus considered himself a patient man, he even considered himself a fair man, hell he'd managed to go a whole year teaching at Hogwarts without once penalizing a Slytherin too harshly.  Although, he'd readily admit that he was sorely tempted to hex Malfoy on an occasion or two.  But what really justified him as a patient man had been that he'd gotten through the whole day without hexing those insufferable muggles that Harry had been forced to bear and much to his shame without hexing Dumbledore for placing him there.  If ever there had been a day to just go back to bed and pretend the world didn't exist, this had been it.

He, Sirius, and Albus had arrived at Privet Drive only to be greeted by some of the most insufferable people, muggles or wizards, that Remus had ever had the displeasure of meeting.  On approach to the home, everything looked to be in order.  The yard was impeccable and the bushes seemed to be pruned right to perfection.  The front door was the only thing that would lead anyone to believe that anything had ever been amiss at the residence as it had been shoved off to the side of the porch and a rather obese man was busy putting a new one in its place.  Remus had cleared his throat to gain the acknowledgement of whom he assumed to be Harry's uncle.  The man had whirled around, and upon realizing that he had two wizards and a large black dog on his porch had turned a dangerous shade of purple.  How the man hadn't passed on due to heart disease couple with stress Remus would never know.  Before Vernon could go into a full blown rage Dumbledore quietly ushered everyone into the living room in a way that was polite but clearly made no room for argument.

Inside Albus attempted, quite unsuccessfully to explain his presence to the enraged muggle.  Finally after casting an extremely strong calming spell, they had been able to get down to business, not that it had served any real purpose in the end.  Vernon gave a rather long description to the three of them about what exactly had happened, and how he, his wife and son had all been knocked unconscious by the hit team the ministry had sent.  He also informed them that he had been awoken to sign over custody of his nephew immediately to the ministry.  He concluded his story by stating that he had seen the wizards disappear with a bleeding and unconscious Harry in the furthest corner of the back yard.  He also mentioned that under no circumstances would Harry ever be allowed back into his home, and after the tour of the house gathering Harry's personal items, (before the ministry sent someone to do so) Remus was especially glad that Vernon had said so because under no circumstances would Remus, let alone Sirius ever let Harry return to that house.

Vernon had slowly began to gain his old self throughout the retelling of the events of last night, and by the time they got around to actually discussing Harry, he was practically frothing at the mouth.  Vernon had gruffly told them that they were take whatever they needed and then get out of his home; he went to check on his wife whom was supposedly recovering from the dramatic events of the night before.

The trio had proceeded upstairs, and upon process of elimination found Harry's room.  Remus had stood absolutely shell shocked at what he found, and Sirius had just whimpered and hung his head, it had been decided that he shouldn't transform while the Dursley's were around, his presence could cause complications later.  Harry's room was tiny, and after a quick locator spell only a few trinkets were found in the room under the loose floorboards.  But what had really bothered Remus was the impersonal feel of the room.  The bed only had an old set of sheets and a tatty blanket, and the only thing to show Harry even lived there was a hastily drawn calendar that hadn't even been pinned to the wall, and Hedwig's bird cage.  Sirius had continued to whimper the entire time he was in the room, and Remus understood why, even he could smell the vague feelings of guilt and the overwhelming feelings of loneliness, and Harry hadn't been home for very long at all.  

Deciding that prolonging their stay any further would do nothing but harm Dumbledore had ushered them into the hall, saying he'd done a magical scan for any useful evidence and come up empty, though he had found Harry's wand in the flower beds outback.  When they had entered the hall the encountered who they presumed to be Harry's cousin they had questioned him as to the location of the rest of Harry's belongings.  The obese young man began to tremble violently and just pointed to the bottom of the stairs and mumbled something about Harry's old bedroom.  Which they later discovered to be the cupboard under the stairs, the scents had been old, but in some ways much stronger than the ones in the bedroom.  Sirius had been so torn up they had to portkey rather than apparate home.  Dumbledore briefly discussed with them the next course of action, contacting an old friend of his in the ministry and then took his leave, looking older than Remus had ever seen him look.  He'd left Sirius sitting in the living room, and gone into the kitchen hoping to relieve some tension while cooking.  It wasn't working too well.  It was bad enough knowing Harry had had no childhood, and Remus realized it was probably worse than what they saw, as Harry tended to keep to himself about personal matters, but what was worse was knowing where Harry was now.  Remus sighed, hopefully Dumbledore would move quickly, he'd rarely seen regret in his eyes, but today had been an exception, he clearly felt the guilt of Harry's situation as much as anyone.

Remus entered the living room to see Sirius sitting reading a piece of parchment, and tears streaming down his face.  It was one of the most unguarded moments he'd seen in Sirius since, well since he wasn't sure.

"Sirius, what is it?"

"We forgot about him… he wrote back you know.  Telling us how he was, lying and saying he was fine.  I could smell it you know?  He was so depressed, so lonely, I should never have left him after the third task, I wasn't thinking clearly…"

"Yes you were.  Those errands had to be done; you couldn't have predicted this Sirius."  Remus sounded exasperated, he wasn't even sure Sirius was hearing him.

"He sounded so happy in the letter, like he liked talking to us."

"I should hope so since he'll be staying with us from now on."  Remus was trying everything to get through to his friend, he reached for the letter Sirius had.

"Stay strong for him, you'll be the only one he'll relate to Sirius, he needs you to be whole."

"I know."

"Were going to get him."

"I know."

"Sirius?"

"I know Mooney, were going to get him, and I swear I am going to give him the life he needs, the life he deserves."

Remus seemed satisfied at that, Sirius eyes were clear, and his mind seemed to be in a similar state.  Remus read through the letter quickly, and had to stifle a giggle.

"Oh Sirius we have to get him back, only he could possibly suggest neutering you and getting away with it!"

Sirius' eyes lit up, "He didn't!"

"Oh Padfoot, you better read again, it would seem that your Godson has a streak of marauder in him after all."

AN:  Look for the next chapter with in another week or so, promise.  I'll also catch up on all review responses at that time.  So please be nice and review, I could use the encouragement.


	7. Chapter Seven: Horizons

A/N: I swear that I tried to get this up before I went out of town for the weekend, and then I tried to get online while I've been gone but just didn't have any success, until now. Crappy hotel, but as a result I'll post this today and another chapter on Saturday or Sunday. Anyway, onto one more topic before the story, I am in desperate need of a beta. One of the reasons that it takes me so long to update is that (despite the visible mistakes there are) I try to be as perfect in spelling and grammar and of course cannon as possible. So if anyone out there is interested please either e- mail me or leave something in your reviews, speaking of which I love them so could you guys keep up the reviewing, please?  
  
Horizons:  
  
The horizon was just beginning to turn a very vibrant shade of rose, subtly fading to lavender, and finally fading into what remained of the velvety midnight blue sky which tenderly encompassed the few remaining stars bravely twinkling as they fought the rising of the dawn, as if their valiant effort could stay the inevitable. It was amazing that something as simple as the nighttime could be so stunningly complex. Molly Weasley loved the evening hours. It was the one time of day that she really felt she could breath, where she could be herself. It was the only time of day that she felt completely as the adult she was. It was her sacred time. Ron and Percy would never argue, Bill and Charlie would never fire call just as she would corral the family to dinner, and Ginny would never need help finding some lost article of clothing, or just feel the need to talk with her mother, and of course it seemed that the late evening hours was the only time that the twins didn't have ominous noises emanating from their room, except of course for George's snore, the poor dear. Oh, it wasn't that Molly didn't love her kids, she did. She loved the way that Percy could find importance in everything he did, and take pride in his smallest actions. She loved, though she'd never admit it, how Ron could aggravate Percy speechless and always beat him at chess. She also loved to take pride in the fact that she'd raised her two eldest with the respect and heart to continually fire call their mother. She also loved the female companionship that she was finding in Ginny as she grew into a remarkable young woman. And yes, even though they rarely listened to her, and had a bit of a wicked streak, and certainly a curiosity to rival even that of Hermione she loved her twins, she loved the animation and determination that she saw when they would prey upon their siblings and argue their cause with her. But the evening hours were her hours, the time where she wasn't mom, but Molly, and occasionally a wife. The evenings had been serene, and Molly's sanctuary. There were many long nights spent in her husband's arms watching a dawn such as this one herald in a new day. In the most recent years of peace, and especially since Ginny had returned to school she had reaffirmed her relationship with her husband, only to find that she love him more with every passing moment.  
  
But this morning she did not herald with a sense of peace, or even in her husband's embrace. This morning brought nothing but sour memories of late nights and many very strong and bitter pots of coffee and tea. It was amazing how far the Dark Lord's reach was, for him to be able to taint something as beautiful and peaceful as the sunrise. But he had, back during his first reign of power Molly had spent many mornings sitting downstairs in her housecoat waiting in silence for the sun to rise, though in those days the rosy hue she was so fond of only seemed a bloody crimson mocking the lives lost as she awaited her husband to return home and recount the lives lost, or worse await the Daily Prophet to find her husband would never return to her arms. She had never gone to sleep last night, nor had she slept well in the previous nights. Arthur had been called late the night before to Hogwarts, Dumbledore himself had fire called them over a secure link and requested Arthur's presence, immediately. And so it had begun, the nights she would wait tersely in the kitchen with a pot of tea and coffee both ready to go, and a plate full of morning pastries just in case. It was these nights that she would look in on her babies, just to see they were safe and sleeping in their beds.  
  
Molly sighed and turned her back to the rising sun, hoping that her children would sleep for a while longer. It would not bode well for them to wake and find their father missing at this hour.  
  
She needn't have worried, as the clock in the corner swung the hand designated for her husband from working to home. Any hope Molly may have harbored about the innocence of the trip Arthur had taken fled her when she saw her husband's terse and exhausted features. It wasn't until she embraced him however, and he shuddered and returned her embrace tightly that her soul acknowledged the rise of a new dark era. For the first time in over fourteen years her husband, her sweet, jovial, muggle loving Arthur was crying.  
  
It was with great trepidation the Arthur Weasley scraped the bottom of the lay chalice for the last of the family's floo and quickly kissed his wife goodbye. Her murmured a few words of comfort and a quick farewell before he called out for Albus Dumbledore's office. There was a brief pause during which Molly heard Dumbledore's misty voice call out, "Clear," before her husband disappeared from their grate.  
  
Arthur felt a sick feeling building in his stomach, which he wasn't sure, was attributed to his trip, as he spun towards Dumbledore's office and a future he wasn't prepared to face. When he stepped out of the grate and into Dumbledore's private office to find himself alone, he was somewhat heartened. Clearly there was no order meeting tonight, which meant the order had not, as of yet, been reassembled. Perhaps the situation wasn't as serious as Bill had made it seem.  
  
Dumbledore choose that moment to emerge from behind a door slightly back and to left of his desk. He extended his hand palm up indicating for Arthur to have a seat across from him. The expression of utter despair and exhaustion humbled Arthur to the true gravity of the situation faster than any declaration could have. He half expected Dumbledore to announce their imminent doom. The only time he remembered Dumbledore looking so old was when he had called the order to report the Potter's murders. This was worse.  
  
"Arthur, I trust that Bill addressed the to you the events of the tournament?"  
  
"Yes, he left the Burrow yesterday, though he is planning on returning home soon. He did give me a full run down of the events during the tournament."  
  
"Did he tell you of Fudge's reaction?"  
  
"Yes sir, he did, why? Has something happened?"  
  
"Yes Arthur, something of grave proportions had occurred. Fudge's reaction was much worse than I initially thought. I had expected his indifference and denial, but I hadn't expected Cornelius to take such a defensive position, nor for him to show the level of cowardice and cruelty that he has."  
  
"I don't understand sir, is he slandering you sir?"  
  
"Indirectly, yes, he is attacking my credibility."  
  
"With all due respect sir, are you sure? I have heard nothing in the ministry, or in the Prophet for that matter." Arthur eyed Albus carefully, he was speaking in his usually circles, though something told Arthur it was as much his exhaustion as it was his demeanor.  
  
Albus sighed inwardly, it would be best to get through the details quickly, Arthur would need to return home before dawn to properly ward his home and prepare his family.  
  
"Cornelius has manipulated the situation to allow for the best possible political outcome for himself. I am sure that you have read the articles that were written in the Prophet about Harry and the tournament."  
  
"Yes. Of course, I believe that Amos was quite verbal in his grief, though Fudge seemed to redirect Amos' words fairly well, I'll admit I was surprised."  
  
"Yes, I would have been as well had I been in the country, and perhaps a bit suspicious, Fudge has never done anything that wasn't politically self centered. However I was out of the country and missed the signs, and I am afraid that by the time I returned it was to late to stop the snowball Fudge had initiated."  
  
Arthur was seriously concerned, was there something that he had missed? "Albus what has happened?"  
  
"Fudge has insured that the only witness to Voldemort's return has been permanently dealt with."  
  
"But that would mean Harry."  
  
"Yes, as of this morning the Daily Prophet will report that Harry Potter has been sent to Azkaban, tried and convicted of Cedric Diggory's murder."  
  
"But that's impossible, a trial of that magnitude would solicit massive media attention. Besides what judge would convict Harry?"  
  
"Unfortunately Cornelius has the power to call a special tribunal to convict wizards of crimes under a "special circumstances" clause. He portrayed Harry as an emerging Dark Lord, and a menace to society. The tribunal didn't hesitate to send Harry to Azkaban for the next thirty years."  
  
Arthur put his head in hands, good god what was he going to do, what was the wizarding world going to do, right now Fudge was more dangerous than you know who.  
  
"When will he be formally banished?"  
  
"He won't be, Fudge sent a team of unspeakables to the Dursley's, the house was attacked, as was Harry." Dumbledore didn't finish as Arthur interrupted him.  
  
"Where is he now, Molly and I would harbor him, at least as long as we could, surely you know that!"  
  
"I am well aware of your families feeling of Harry Arthur. And I appreciate your willingness to help, but alas it is too late. Fudge has the power to override and expedite the process, Harry is already at Azkaban."  
  
Arthur looked utterly defeated, Harry was a child, the same age as his son, hell he practically was his son! He wouldn't leave him there any longer than he'd leave his own sons in that hellhole.  
  
"What do you need me to do? Surely you know that Molly and I will do what we need to get him back, safe, and healthy."  
  
"Of course, I have some thoughts on the subject, but I need to evaluate the situation at the Dursley's, Remus and Sirius will accompany me to their residence tomorrow, hopefully we can fill in the gaps from the reports I have had from some of my internal sources. I don't expect that to be very productive, I will probably call on you in the near future, but Arthur I need you to understand, if Fudge catches you, you could be fired," Dumbledore then steepled his fingers and peered over the rim of his half moon spectacles, "or worse, understand you place your whole family at risk."  
  
"I do Albus, I owe him, a wizards debt for my daughter, probably a few for Ron as well. I'll not abandon him, neither will Molly. Fudge needs to be removed."  
  
"Yes he does, and that is primarily what we are going to discuss tonight."  
  
Several hours later Arthur secured his cloak around him and followed the Headmaster through the vacant and oddly quite halls of Hogwarts. As they reached the apparation barrier Arthur turned to bid the Headmaster goodbye.  
  
"You understand everything we have discussed?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And the risks?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then Merlin be with you, and your family, I would suggest that you inform our children before the Prophet arrives this morning, it will be most distasteful."  
  
"Of course Albus. I'll await further contact from you. Give Sirius and Remus my support and condolences."  
  
The last words Arthur heard before he fell into his wife's embrace were, "I will, mad good luck."  
  
The sun was fully visible in the morning sky, and the morning mist had nearly burned off when the Weasley children stumbled down from bed. They were greeted to the sight of both of their parents in the kitchen, both looked completely exhausted and upset. What really concerned them was the amount of food that their mother had prepared, she only cooked that much when she was truly upset, or the dial on the family clock read "mortal peril."  
  
Ron was the first to speak. "Mum, is something wrong, why isn't Dad at work?"  
  
Arthur responded before Molly could, his tone told the family he wouldn't like the answer, "Sit down children. We need to speak with you."  
  
Fred and George spoke up, "Dad, what's going on, what's happened?"  
  
"Sit down boys, your father will explain while we eat."  
  
"I'll explain everything I can, but please be patient, and just know that we will help him in anyway we can alright."  
  
"Dad it isn't Bill or Charlie is it, they are alright aren't they?" Ginny looked on the verge of tears, tears that Arthur knew all to well would be joined shortly by the rest of the family's.  
  
"Yes baby, they're fine, in fact they are coming to stay for a while."  
  
Be strong Arthur thought, get it over with.  
  
"Then who, what is going on, your scaring us."  
  
Just do it, the sooner the better thought Molly as she grasped her husband's hand.  
  
"Its Harry Ron, he's been sent to Azkaban for Cedric's murder."  
  
Arthur had known no better way to do it, he just said it, and now by the looks on his families faces he'd wished he hadn't.  
  
Please Review. 


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